


Clear Outta Here

by writetheniteaway



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, F/M, Tumblr Prompt, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 15:12:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4569231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/pseuds/writetheniteaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was prompted a lambcuddles fic with major angst. A rally for workers rights goes south and Jack and Katherine are caught in the middle of a violent police breakup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Clear outta here!” 

There musta been a hundred cops rushin’ the stage, and for pay thugs blockin’ the exits. It wasn’t supposed t’ go this way, there was girls here, an’ little kids. It was just supposed to be talkin’, not a riot. 

There was folks who needed him everywhere he looked, but he’d lost sight a Katherine somewhere in the scuffle, and he scanned the crowd in a panic, dodgin’ a bat and turning back to the stage in the same motion, just in time to see her skirts tangled in a heap on the floor. 

“Katherine!” His voice was hoarse, panic choking him as he fought his way back towards her. Somewhere in the distance a whistle blew, and suddenly there were arms grabbing his, a mass of uniforms pulling him towards the doors, away from her too still body crumpled on the stage. 

“Let go a me, lemme go!” He fights against them with all his strength, but not even Jack Kelly can win six ta one. There’s cuffs on him now and he’s already feelin’ his skin start to rub raw as he pulls against them.  “Katherine!” 

He sees her stir, thank God, and she turns to see him being pulled further out the door. He tries to scream out a warning, but a thug’s taken another swing at her from behind, and Jack’s stomach drops as he hears a crack echo, unable to tell if it came from the closing door or the bat that just landed square on his wife. 


	2. Chapter 2

“C’mon Kate, wake up.” Someone’s hand shakes her, but not the one Katherine was waiting for. Her eyes squeeze tighter shut against the light, but she forces them into obediently opening.

“Where’s Jack?” She asks, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

“They got him. Him an’ almost a hundred others.” Race tells her flatly. “We need to move fore they make another sweep. They see you like this you’re gonna wind up handcuffed to a hospital bed.” He offers his hand and she takes it, willing her body to hold together long enough to get Jack and get home.

“Steady there,“ he shrugs her arm over his shoulder, then pulls his cigar from his pocket. It’s a habit turned comfort, and it’ll help him hide the fact he took a beating only slightly less severe than hers.

“Jack’s said get you home. Don’t bother askin’ me not to.”

Katherine nods, all of her concentration on moving one foot in front of the other. They make their way slowly out of the hall and into the chill of the air, which after its initial shock brings small relief to their sore frames.

“Who else?” She aks. Who else of their family, their loyal to a fault family who’d been ready at the first command to march into another fight.

“Finch, JoJo, Bernie” Race grimaces. “Rumor has it they’re settin’ max bail for everyone. Ain’t no way to tell for sure ‘till tomorrow.”

“We can’t leave them there until tomorrow,” Katherine says adamantly. “Not if they’re hurt-“

“They ain’t gonna let him out easy Kate,” Race says, knowing who she wants out most. “Not after that speech.”

“We have to try,” She insists, her voice on the verge of panic, but not for herself. She knew too well what a jail cell was for Jack. A cage, away from light, from fresh air, a memory of a past not yet distant enough to feel safe from.

“You ain’t gonna do anyone any good passin’ out on the sidewalk. Let’s get back an’ clean up, check on everyone and make sure they’s ain’t any worse off than we are.”

“I’m going to that station tonight Race, don’t you dare try and stop me.” Katherine claims fiercely.

“Clara’s gonna take one look at you and I ain’t gonna have to.” He replies wryly.

***

There’s a dozen other people in the cell with him, and there ain’t a window far as he can see. Place smells like a trash pile in the summer, his wrists are sore and so’s his ribs. He’d close his eyes, ‘cept everytime he does all he gets are images of Katherine–Katherine, Christalmighty, ain’t been to church in years but God let her be alright—crumpled on the floor a the stage with a bat across her back.

He’s facing away from them all, he’s let them down again, and he’s too hurt and too scared to be Jack Kelly, their Union Leader. Locked in this cage, not knowing what to do next, scared to do anythin’ to make it worse, no this is Jack Kelly, the riffraff of the streets who just wants to see the sky, to breathe in and smell clean air. Jack Kelly, the scared little boy who never got stopped bein’ afraid of the refuge, long after the building was torn to the ground. Jack Kelly, who couldn’t even save the angel who’d saved him.


End file.
